Blind Man's Bluff
by KrasnyCassandra
Summary: Pure Annie/Auggie sexiness.  No discernable plot, but lots of fun with blind-folds. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to the characters or storylines of Covert Affairs. No material gain is to be had from this story.**

**This is now rated M. Warnings for strong sexual content.**

"No. I admit defeat." Annie chewed her lip. "Let's talk about something else. In fact … maybe it's time for me to leave."

Auggie sat his shot glass on the coffee table. "The only way you are leaving here is in a cab, Miss Walker, and that will take 20 minutes to get here at this time of night. So your _cowardly_ urge to flee has been thwarted once again. You said "truth", so now you have to answer the question."

Annie grumbled. "This was a stupid idea. I should have known you were setting me up for pain."

He grinned unrepentantly. "I think the high-end tequila should have been your first clue." He reached out one large hand, palm up. He had to wait for almost a minute before she huffed a sigh and, taking the proffered hand, sat back down beside him on the couch.

"What was the question?"

His answering chuckle was low and throaty. "You know damn well what the question is, you chicken. In fact, for trying to weasel out, I'm adding the stipulation that you have to _repeat_ the question when you answer." He kept a firm grip on her hand, lending that physical restraint to his assurances that she couldn't avoid the question – or him.

He leaned his head against the back of the couch. It had been a long week and an unsatisfying end to their latest assignment. Auggie could feel the tension leaking out of his shoulders and back. Sprawled on the couch with his feet bare, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and Annie Walker leaning against him, he finally started to relax. Part of him, hazily, conceded that the afore-mentioned tequila was doing a fine job of lowering inhibitions _and_ relaxing him. More importantly, though, Annie was relaxing. Or, she had been until his latest question.

"You are a low-down, conniving, sneak, August Anderson."

He didn't even bother to raise his head to reply to that weak-ass jab. "Well documented fact. Now, Agent Walker, the answer, if you please."

"You. Will. Pay," she hissed. Before he could retort, though, she took a deep breath. "Fine. The kinkiest thing I've done in bed is being blind folded."

If it hadn't been for her grudging tone and the way she tried to simultaneously rush the words out of her mouth and mumble, he might have thought she was dodging the question. As it was, he was too shocked by the mundane nature of her "perversion" to respond.

Annie watched her best friend – her well-on-the-way-to-being-drunk best friend - as he finally turned his sightless brown eyes on her. She almost giggled at the look of utter scorn on his features. "I know. It's boring. Sorry." She tried to reach for the tequila bottle but it was on the other side of the coffee table. Reaching it would have meant sprawling across his lap – probably not a wise idea.

"I just… I mean… wow. Your ability to shock me remains strong. Here I thought you were my little rebel…"

"_Your_ little rebel? Excuse me? Give me back my hand, I need another drink."

He pretended to consider this. "Mmm, no." He leaned forward, found the bottle on the second try and handed it across his body, all the while keeping a firm grip on her left hand with his right hand. "I'm "handling" your propensity to flee tough situations."

She tried not to wince at his particular brand of _vino veritas_. "I call bullshit, and for that you must drink. She thrust a half-full shot glass into his hand. (She'd learned early on that full-to-the-brim shot glasses, or any other beverage container, were especially dangerous to a blind man)

He tossed back the shot. "Fine. Is insurance, though. Lets me know where you are."

She didn't dispute this. Ever since a close call in Guatemala and his latest girlfriend leaving him, Auggie had developed a near obsession with knowing where she was at any given moment of the day. With anyone else Annie would have felt claustrophobic, but with Auggie she just worried. He tried so hard to hide his vulnerabilities and he so often succeeded. So, it was hard when he failed spectacularly and was left exposed and vulnerable. "Not going anywhere, Aug." She whispered the words before leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I no longer find it arousing."

Her head shot back up. "Wh.. what?"

"The blind fold in bed thing," he responded calmly. His speech cadence was the same as when he'd informed her that Stu had gone out for coffee or that there was a forecast for rain. Annie, speechless, blinked at him. "When _every_ sexual encounter is carried out without benefit of sight, being blindfolded just sort of loses its allure."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I'm sorry I never thought of it that way."

He shrugged. "No need to be sorry. Certainly not your fault." He waived his glass at her. "Empty, again. Also, is my turn."

"Fine, lush. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." He quirked an eyebrow before tossing back the shot. "Any other man would be terrified of saying that to Anne Catherine Walker, but I now know that she's just a prude in kitten heels. Hey!" He tugged on her hand when he felt her try to stand. His mocking outrage turned to surprise. "Uh.. Annie?" It felt like she was… she definitely _was,_ straddling him. Her breath tickled his ear.

"I dare you to let me blindfold you."

Auggie's confusion ratcheted up another notch. "Uh, Annie, I'm _blind_. It kind of seems redundant."

Her sultry laughter did very bad things to his inebriated body. "I dare you to let me blind fold you and you tell me you are not aroused."

"You're straddling me, Annie. I don't think the blindfold is going to make a difference one way or the other." He instantly regretted his words when she peeled herself off his lap. He clutched her hand like it was a life-line. It surely felt as if he was drowning in unfamiliar waters….

"Do you accept?" Her voice still had that softly slurred, seductive, quality to it.

He was doomed. He swallowed once and nodded meekly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay, I had trouble getting this one to go where I wanted. Very firmly M. You've been warned.**

"Ok, but I will need you to let go of my hand." When his lips drooped into a frown her heart broke just a little bit. "I'm not running for the door, or running out on you. Trust me, Auggie."

Despite the sincerity of her tone, the wider context of the situation made Auggie smile. "You just said you were going to blind fold me and now you want me to trust you? Do we need a safe word for this encounter?" He slowly relaxed his grip on her slender fingers.

"You expect a prude like me to know what "safe words" are?" She immediately moved away from him. He followed her movements from the sound of her footfalls. Knowing the layout of his apartment by heart, he knew she was right behind the couch even before she spoke.

"Do you remember my very first mission?"

"Hard to forget. You managed to get shot at on your very first mission, very first _day_ even."

"And when I crawled across that broken glass to escape that hotel room, it tore my stockings to shreds." Her voice sounded different, further away. Auggie heard the strap of her purse jangle against the breakfast bar in his kitchenette. "I learned so many lessons that day, but I still think the most important lesson was: always keep a spare pair of stockings in my purse."

"Good tip. You should share it with Jai."

Her laughter wafted over his head. She was closer, again, standing right behind him. "You are _so_ mean to him."

"He deserves it." His throat suddenly felt incredibly dry. More tequila, though, probably wasn't a good idea. He heard the soft rustle of plastic and assumed Annie had retrieved her spare pair of stockings. At least he was getting a clean blindfold…

Silk slid over his ear and down his cheek. He felt the stocking slide up over his nose and across his eyes. Trying, desperately, to maintain the teasing tone of their earlier conversation – of their entire friendship - he felt obligated to say: "I repeat my assertion that blind-folding a blind man is ridiculous."

"Hush and tie this knot for me." She coaxed both of his hands to the back of his head. He felt the delicate edges of the thigh high stocking under his fingers and had to swallow twice. _She wears thigh highs. That's going to be a facet of every fantasy from now until eternity._ He was so caught up in that thought that he didn't, at first, notice the feeling of silk around his wrists. He jerked upright when he realized Annie had deftly knotted a stocking around his hands. Unfortunately for his self control, but blessedly gratifying to his fantasy life, the act of jerking so suddenly made his fingers skim up her belly and between her breasts.

"What the hell, Annie?" Silence answered him. "Annie?" He couldn't hear her.

Then, just as he was starting to become very annoyed, he felt her - quite a lot of her. One long leg cradled the outside of each of his thighs. Her breath twisted in the curls beside his ear. "Gotchya."

"You said blind fold, not hogtie." He pouted.

"But, as you pointed out, a blind man has no need to cover his eyes. You see with your hands. Now you don't get to use them. A blind fold for a blind man."

"Your mind is a dark and terrifying place, Annie Walker." He said it sternly, but he was privately awed by her ingenuity and insight.

"You said I was a prude." She shifted her weight, dancing her toes over his knees.

"I sometimes say really stupid things, especially when I'm drunk."

Her toes didn't stop their rhythm. Fingers glided up the underside of his arms, which he still had stretched up behind his head. "You're not drunk." Her whisper came in his other ear, this time. "With no hands you have to hear and … taste." One soft fingertip pressed against his lower lip, pulling it inexorably downward. He tasted lime and tequila. Annie's moan brushed against his cheek with a soft puff of breath. "Those stockings tying your hands? They aren't my new ones. I pulled them off my legs. My, now, bare legs, that are just out of reach. It's quite hot in here. I think I'll undo a few buttons."

Auggie was past caring about bets, dares, bluffs, or questions of honor. He didn't, at present, care that the woman in his lap – _his freaking lap!_ – was his best friend and co-worker. He wanted her – now. If they made it to the bed first, fine, but the coffee table would work just as well. Repercussions and guilt and morning after awkwardness be damned. A man could only be teased so far. "You're bluffing." The words rattled out of his dry throat, seeped in testosterone.

"So were you. I'm calling your bluff." She leaned closer, until the full weight of her breasts pressed against his chest. She wrapped her fingers in the hair at the back of his head. With a slight tug, she pulled his head back and blew a hot breath down the column of his throat. "Tell me."

"No."

Her delighted, sultry, laugh made him twitch. "Tell Me You Are Not Aroused."

"Me?" He tried very hard to sound flippant. "Seriously Annie a bit of dirty talk isn't going to work on me. You've met your match, kitten. Props for the trick with my hands, though."

She leaned back, stared at his face. "Liar. You adorable, horrible, sexy, liar." Before he could respond, her legs shifted outward and brought the full weight of her body onto his lap. Annie chuckled as she rolled her hips. "Not aroused? I call bullshit."

The feel of Annie grinding against him short circuited what self control Auggie still retained. Hands still knotted together, he brought his arms over his head and down onto her shoulders. With his forearms pressing against her collarbone holding her pelvis flush against his, he twisted his fingers in her hair. Mimicking her previous actions, he pulled her head back. "Guess I better drink," he muttered, seconds before his lips stroked over hers.

Auggie held her still while he tasted tequila, salt, lime, and Annie. He felt her jerk in surprise. He felt her shudder when his tongue pressed into her mouth. He felt her relax under his grip. He heard her squeak of shock, her soft gasp, and her desperate moan. Much as he would have given to see Annie at that moment, he didn't need his eyes. His other sense told him exactly what he needed to know. Her head tilted to the side, allowing him deeper access to the sweet recess of her mouth.

Ironically, the deeper and more passionate kisses re-awakened his protective urges. He pulled back and used his still tied hands, now completely entangled in her hair, to pull her head forward onto his chest. "Annie, you need to get up and either call yourself a cab or go get in my bed."

"Or what?" She whispered the question, sensing the "or else" in his tone.

He nipped at her collarbone, then, kissed his way to the hollow behind her ear. "Or else I demonstrate the inadequacies of your knot tying skills and rip those clothes off you right here."

Annie knew he was giving her a chance to back out. She knew that with Auggie there would be no repercussions, that they would maintain their easy friendship as if nothing had happened. Or, they would at least appear to return to the status quo, but she wasn't sure she truly could. She wanted him. Not because she was half-drunk on tequila or because she was inebriated with the raw sexiness the man beneath her was currently exuding. She wanted to know if Auggie could pull off his unique mixture of tender concern, sex-god persona, and attentive friend even after he'd blown her mind in bed. There was not a doubt in her head that sex with him would be incredible.

"I learned to tie knots from my dad. I call bullshit, August Anderson. I'm betting you cannot get out of that knot in the time it takes me to get this blouse off and…"

His hands slipped from her hair down the curve of her sides and pushed on her hips to anchor her tightly on his lap - one hand, on each hip.

His chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. His nimble fingers began pulling her skirt upward while his palms held her still. Against her neck he murmured:

"I wasn't bluffing."


	3. Chapter 3

Annie felt Auggie's lips, pressed as they were against her collarbone, stretch into a smile when she gasped, "Oh!" His thumbs pressed harder against her hipbones. Beneath her own ragged breathing she could fee his heart pounding. Her skirt, which hadn't felt all that tight when she'd put it on that morning, had temporarily stymied his inquisitive fingers. Beneath her fingers, still interlaced with the curly hair at his nape, Auggie's neck was banded with tension. She wanted to ask him if he was sure about this, if maybe they weren't getting a bit carried away.

He didn't give her a chance. One hand dragged up her spine, giving her goose-bumps in the process, to cup her cheek. The pad of his thumb slid over her cheekbone. Just as her lips parted on another gasp, Auggie leaned in and kissed her again. Apparently dissatisfied with the angle of her head, he moved his other hand to the other side of her face. Individual kisses merged into a sensual concerto. Annie tried to turn her head, finally. She couldn't draw a full breath. Her skin prickled. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out on her breasts. She needed to gasp, to draw in more oxygen, to gather one coherent thought. A whimper was all she could manage.

Convinced she would pass out if she couldn't find a way to draw deeper breaths, Annie frantically tugged at the buttons of her blouse. She whimpered, again, against Auggie's insistent lips when the blouse drifted to the floor behind her. When she tried to twist her arms behind her to unclasp her bra, he murmured: "Shh, sweatheart, let me."

Unable to see her face, and with his hands otherwise occupied, Auggie stopped kissing her for the moment. His large, long fingered, hands had her white lace demi-cup unclasped in seconds. With the index finger of each hand he pulled the straps down her shoulders, across her forearms and then tossed the bra aside. He returned his hands to her waist, waiting patiently while Annie unbuttoned his shirt.

"Mmm," he sighed as she kissed his collarbone in imitation of his earlier ministrations. Her fingers danced across his chest, murmuring in soft appreciation of the corded muscles. He frowned when he felt her weight shift. She stood up and tugged at his hands.

"Bed," she whispered. Then, in a heartbreaking addendum, she said: "Please."

He let her lead him, one hand locked around his, to his bed, even though it felt backwards, somehow. At the foot of the bed she turned back to him and pressed her, gloriously naked, chest against his. "Where were we? Should I tie you back up?"

With a snort, he shifted his weight and used one foot to sweep her legs out from under her. She toppled back onto the bed with a squeak. "No. I want to feel very inch of you while I listen to every moan, every word you beg, every time you say my name." He lowered himself gently onto the bed, careful where he put his weight in case she'd shifted.

Annie reached up and tugged his face down to hers. "Do you really need your hands for that? Wouldn't…" she had to wrench her head sideways to break away from a searing kiss. "Your tongue work just as well?"

"Oh, I think it will work _better_ for some things."

"Prove it," she taunted.

He shook his head. "Patience, Miss Walker."

She pouted, knowing that he couldn't see her expression but doing it all the same. "Tease."

"No, Annie. " He slid down beside her, resting his weight on one arm. His free hand traced patterns across her stomach. "I'm not teasing you."

Her back arched. He removed his hand. She grumbled.

"Liked that did you?" Despite his assertion of moments before, Auggie's tone was lightly teasing.

"Yes, damn you." She grabbed him and pulled him to her for a frantic kiss. He indulged her, spending several long minutes just kissing her and exploring her mouth. When he finally did raise his head she was panting again.

He needed to slow down, even though the woman beneath him was panting with need. He needed to take his time, even though his own body was screaming for release. He needed her as much on an emotional level as a physical one. The need was so palpable that he was close to sobbing it out loud. He was mildly surprised that his voice didn't quaver when he spoke.

"Let me see you, Annie."

Emotions roiled beyond control already, Annie had to swallow a cry at this heart-rending request.

Auggie had suddenly realized that, despite multiple sparring sessions, collisions in the hallway, and frantic consolation hugs, he'd never had the chance to "see" Annie's face. He used his thumbs and index fingers to lightly trace her cheekbones, her slightly pert little nose, the almond shaped eyes, the finely etched brows. He knew what her lips felt like – hell he knew what they _tasted_ like at this point, so he skipped over them to caresses her chin. It felt delicate and small in his big hands, but knowing Annie, he was sure that jaw could clench into a pugilistic stubbornness with surprising quickness.

Annie watched him while he explored. His big brown eyes tracked with his fingers as if he would actually see what he was feeling. His expression flitted between intense concentration and tender awe. It was a humbling experience.

"Well," she finally whispered. "Did the guys describe me correctly?"

He grinned, again, and shifted his weight. "I'll have to tell you later, they weren't really concentrating on your facial features." While she grunted in mock outrage he reached down to cup one breast. She rewarded him with a soft sound of pleasure. He continued to explore and caress, listening to her audible feedback. He learned what pleased her, what touches made her writhe, and what made her beg.

Annie felt as if she was being simultaneously worshipped and devoured. His fingers, and tongue, where everywhere. They stroked, laved, pinched, rolled, tasted, and drove her to the brink of insanity. Sometimes he would grin at her with his usual play-boy arrogance and sometimes there would be naked need scrawled across his handsome face. She did her share of touching, managing, finally, to divest him of his pants. When he nipped her earlobe and whispered "Let go, Annie," she knew precisely what he meant. He sucked on the sensitive skin above her collarbone as she shuddered beneath him.

Auggie listened as Annie's breathing descended from ragged pants to something approaching normal. He let his fingers glide down her thigh and back up again while he feathered kisses over her forehead and closed eyes. She was so relaxed beneath him that he grunted in surprise when she shoved him onto his back.

"My turn, Mr. Anderson."

He looked horrified. "Please, that's not really a sexy monitor. Reminds me of…." He stopped when he felt Annie lift her head from where she'd been tracking kisses down his chest and stomach. "Never mind. Shutting up, now."

"Smart man," came her muffled reply. He couldn't argue with her – he'd lost the ability to speak. His fingers twisted in her hair and his hips jerked. She knew him so well that she played him right to the edge before raising her head and wiggling back up his body.

"I need you, Auggie."

The y rolled again so that he was once more above her. He stroked her side and pulled one knee up beside his hip. "Shh. Relax. Just let me lead and I'll bring you home safe."

She smiled and he felt it against his lips. "Just like you always have?"

"And always will." He pulled her close, shifted his weight, and matched her gasp with one of his own.

Later, when she was sure the gorgeous body beside her was deep asleep, Annie sat up to leave the bed. Instantly, a hand locked around her wrist. Eyes still closed, Auggie said in a voice not at all clouded with sleep, "Stay with me."

She leaned over to brush a curl off his forehead. "I was just going to the bathroom, Aug. You can't get rid of me that easily." She kissed him softly and patted his hand. After a moment he let her go.

When she returned from the bathroom he was waiting. He pulled her close, one heavy arm falling across her waist, the other cradling her head. He slept the entire night holding onto her hand. She wouldn't have had it any other way.


End file.
